Light snow drifts down through crimson sky settling on red rock fins, - A landscape utterly unnatural and in turmoil, engulfed by an eerie and complete silence. The silence of a world re-awakening after an extinction. End-times. No sound to be heard save for the lonely whistle of a light breeze. As the clouds part, harsh desert sun illuminates a half buried pouch of coyote brown hue. A tool that had clearly known adventure and been put to hard use in another time. Made for a purpose. Laying in the fine red dirt waiting for more. The nuclear silence is shattered by echo of boot on gravel. The sound of A desperate yet confident stride. A strong weathered hand reaches down and grasps the pouch picking it up with out hesitation, then charges on towards the horizon into the unknown of a world reborn.

I am a distiller. My process is born of experience in the natural world - basin, range, coast, desert and forest. Through a synergy of image, word and design I strive to inspire stewardship of the wild places that are vital to our existence.